


A Strategic Duel of Wits

by CaptMickey



Category: King's Quest (Video Games)
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, let Gart and Graham bond!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptMickey/pseuds/CaptMickey
Summary: Gwendolyn and Grandfather's thing were stories, but for Gart, it was a board game.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter One

Gart sat in the courtyard staring down the home edition of Duel of Wits. His chin on his hands, he eyed the miniature knights and attempted to picture in his head their movements. If he were to move that one over there… no, that wouldn't do. He would leave himself open.

Again.

He huffed and tapped idly his finger against his cheek as he revised his plot. One would think that playing the game alone would present itself as mindlessly easy since one could, theoretically, set it up for the other to win. It wasn't difficult. But, and this was what Gart had mastered at doing, it was a challenge when you're playing against yourself and you want both sides to win.

And that was a fun difficulty.

His hand hovered over one of the knights, thinking of both offense and defense before grumbling and retracing his hand back. It wasn't that he didn't like playing with others, in fact he welcomed it. He just found it to be more difficult to find an opponent then actually playing by himself. He always had himself as company (as well as his parents back home), but he would find himself oftentimes on his own while at his Grandparents castle.

It was especially so lately now with his aunt, uncle and new baby cousin joining their company.

The small prince placed a hand over a knight and tapped its head, watching it shake to life and move to position before firing his own doll, the arrow bouncing off the shields and landing nowhere. Well, shoot.

"Hmm… interesting."

Gart's heart leapt into his throat as he jumped in place, staring at the sudden voice when all tension was relieved at the sight. Graham towered over Gart, his hand mindlessly stroking his long grey beard as he eyed the board. "I would move that knight over there." He then said.

"You would?" Gart raised a brow, questioning the decision. "Why?"

Graham raised a brow of his own. "You wouldn't?" Blond curly locks shook no as the old man crossed his arms. "Why not?"

"You leave yourself open." Gart tapped on the knight his grandfather discussed and moved it into position. He then went and tapped his own archer and watched the arrow fly and hit its target, surprising Graham. "I would have moved that knight instead. Would have bounced and given you another turn to hit me."

"Is that so?" Graham moved himself to stand opposite of Gart before, with heavy grunts, taking a seat. Old eyes examined the board carefully before a sly smirk graced his face. "Well, I be… that's a solid strategy. However… suppose I were to do something like this." He carefully fixed the set to what it was prior and hit another knight, watching it fire and hit Gart's archer.

"What?!" Gart gasped staring at the battlefield. How did he never think of that?! "I… I could have thought of that."

"Really now?"

"Yes." A beat. "...No."

Graham chuckled and fixed the board fresh. Gart, who never would say no to welcome an opponent, especially if it was someone like his grandfather, sat there staring at him. Confused. "Grandfather, why aren't you with mother and uncle Alexander?"

"I could ask the same of you, Gart." He stroked his beard in thought before tapping on a knight.

The small prince frowned and tapped on a different knight to rotate. "It was boring. All she does is sleep, what's so amazing about that? I can sleep with my eyes closed."

Graham let out a laugh. “I bet you could.”

Gart smiled but slowly lowered his head. "But, mom said to step outside if I was going to keep chatting. I think she's mad at me."

"Oh, I don't think so, Gart… busy, perhaps, but not mad." He reassured. "In a way, she’s just like her own mother. Your grandmother still kicks me out of the room if I'm in her way as well."

"She kicks you out?" Gart looked up at him.

"Just the other day she pushed me out of the kitchen for trying to take all the chocochips in the middle of the night as a snack." Graham whispered, smiling as Gart started to snicker.

"So why were you kicked out now?" Gart asked, watching Graham move his archer.

"My beard kept waking up the baby whenever I leaned over to look at her and everyone in the room told me to leave because they were trying to get her to finally nap." Graham laughed. "Besides, I was wondering where you went off to and figured you could use some company."

"I'm alright by myself."

Graham just raised a brow. "Allow me to rephrase myself." Graham then said. "I was the one that needed company. And you're the perfect person to have company with."

Gart, surprised, smiled at hearing that before tapping the knight. With another tap at his archer, he watched it bounce and just mildly miss the opponent's.

"Clever… but not clever enough." Graham grinned and tapped the knight into position and watched the arrow soar and hit Gart's archer successfully. Noting the small child observing the board in both curiosity and frustration, he stroked his beard once more. "Best two out of three, Gart?"

"Bring it!"


	2. Chapter Two

He stared at the closed door at the end of the hall with the board game under his arm, fidgeting just slightly from one foot to the other. Gart wasn’t usually the impatient type, at least, not on good days when he didn’t have anything in particular to look forward to, but today just was not that day. No, instead, he was staring bitterly at the door, waiting for Gwendolyn to step out so he could rush quickly into Grandfather’s room and have him to himself.

He simply had to show him his latest strategy that he perfected.

But he also knew not to barge into Gwendolyn’s and Grandfather’s story time. That… was their thing. Not his. He didn’t care much for the stories as oftentimes he would find himself dozing out of focus. Wasn’t sure as to why he would, but he did while Gwendolyn loved the way Grandfather would weave his rather lengthy tales. Gart supposed any small child would love a grand epic, even if they were filled to the brim with groan-inducing puns that he simply could not stand (there were times where at the dinner table he groan so loudly at his grandfather’s puns that his parents would glare at him while grandfather snickered proudly). 

The door creaked open and Gwendolyn stepped outside, her face beaming at the latest tale. She looked down the hall where she saw Gart and waved at him. “Grandpa is ready to see you now.” Gwendolyn smiled. 

Gart, unable to stop himself from smiling, walked closer and shifted the board game up closer to him.

“Wanna play a round after?” Gwendolyn asked, noting the game at hand. “I’m getting better at it.”

“Is that so?” Gart remarked.

She nodded her head eagerly. “My mom has been teaching me how to play it. I’m… still not that good, but I’m practicing.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Gwendolyn.” Gart smiled, though deep down he knew it would be a long time until she presented herself as an actual opponent (he wiped the floor with her ten to two a few summers ago and even deeper down felt a little bad when she got upset). “I look forward to seeing that practice pay off and the odds will be actually even instead of me decimating you. Repeatedly.”

Gwendolyn playfully shoved Gart before leaving.

Walking into the room, Gart closed the door behind him, spotting the old king at his desk with a quill in one hand and an addendum in another, mumbling under his breath. He cleared his throat to make his presence known. 

Graham, startled for a moment, looked over and spotted Gart. He smiled and placed his quill down. “What a pleasant surprise. I could have sworn the addendum training wasn’t until tomorrow. Come in! Come in!”

Gart smiled and took a bit of a larger step closer to the seat parallel to Graham, placing the box on the table.

“What’s this?” Graham then gave a smirk. “Challenging me to yet another round, Gart?”

“This time I’m ready.” Gart grinned. “I have perfected a plan that is going to guarantee me a win.”

The old king let out a loud but hearty laugh, nodding his head in approval before moving all the papers to the side to make way for the board game. “Very well, lets see this plan of yours in action then.” Graham watched as Gart set up the pieces carefully and respectfully. “I believe the score is eighty eight to your forty two.”

“Soon to be forty three.”

“How very bold.” Graham grinned as the two began their match. 

Graham watched carefully how Gart eyed the board and mumbled under his breath or would occasionally look upward as if the answer was in the ceiling before smiling and moving a knight. To the old king’s surprise, the plan Gart was executing was nearly flawless. Nearly. Every move he would do, Gart knew a quick counter to it, either by rotating a knight or moving his own archer away from any richoced shots.

“Hmm… how about that.” Graham leaned back and stroked his beard. “Seems to me like you have me at a stand still.”

“Ha!” Gart pumped his fists in the air.

“Ah, I wouldn’t celebrate quite so soon, my boy.” 

“Ha-- huh?”

With a tap of a knight it rotated and the arrow shot Gart’s archer. The blond leaned back and covered his face, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“I win, it seems.”

“I don’t get it, it was the perfect plan!” Gart frowned. “I planned out all the moves and everything, right down to the smallest detail.”

Graham, still stroking his beard, smiled softly. “Care for some feedback?”

Gart lowered his hands and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“You have to think bigger and outside of the box.” Graham explained. “Don’t get me wrong, what you had going was incredible, nearly air-tight. You definitely kept me at the edge of my seat with this plan of yours. But, and this is critical, you need to also see things on a grander scale. And more importantly, don’t be afraid of improvising if needed be. Sometimes… a plan doesn’t always fall together and it would behoove you to learn to relax a little.”

“I see…” Gart nudged slightly his decapitated archer. “That is some solid advice.” He felt Graham’s sturdy hand stroking his hair for a moment and sagged a little.

“Care for a re-match?”

Gart looked up and smiled. “Always.”


	3. Chapter Three

“This reminds me of the time I outsmarted a bunch of goblins while on a mission to rescue the Fairy Queen from a magical castle.” Graham casually remarked.

“Huh?” Gart looked up as he finished his turn. “What do you mean? How does this match remind you of that?”

“Well…” Graham tapped on the knight into position. “The Fairy Queen was trapped in a cage, you see, and she was surrounded by goblins in the room.”

Oh no, Gart thought, a story. And he was five steps into the match to fake a loss to escape. Best to just… bear and grin it.

“H...how many goblins were in the room?” Gart asked, reluctantly. 

“About four or five. And only one of me. The Fairy Queen couldn’t assist me as the cage she was in drained her of her power.” Graham watched Gart move the knight. “Much like the position this board is set up, if my archer was the queen and yours me.”

Gart eyed the board, slowly visualizing it. “I… see.” The young prince said, watching Graham’s hand tap a knight. The young prince’s hand hovered one of the knights, but the visual lingered persistently. If this was the set up, then it would be impossible to get across without either magic or weapon. And the more he thought about it the more his focus drifted away from the match. He tapped the knight. “How’d you get across the room to get to her?”

“Hm?”

“How’d you get past the Goblins? You couldn’t just waltz right in. The moment you stepped foot, they would have spotted you and thrown you in jail.”

“Heh, true. I couldn’t.” Graham looked from Gart to the board, smirking. 

“So how did you do it? Did you combine any items together? Form a smoke bomb?”

“No, I snuck them out one at a time and knocked each one out, allowing myself entry inside.” Graham scratched his temple. “At least, I loosely remember it being like that. Its been ages, truth be told.”

“Oh.”

Graham looked at Gart. “Oh?”

“Well, if the castle was magic, I would have gathered some magical items to combine and use as a smokescreen or knockout gas.” Gart leaned back, crossing his arms as he examined the board. “Taking them out one by one isn’t so bad, I suppose, but that’s too much time.”

“And gathering ingredients isn’t?” Graham leaned back, his own arms crossed.

“It’s more productive.”

Graham’s eyes widened and he let out a laugh. “Ha, I suppose it would be to someone who thinks with their wit like that.”

Gart smiled and tapped the knight. “I’m right to assume you didn’t think of that?”

“I didn’t have time to spare, you see. If I didn’t bring her back soon, she would have perished and Daventry would have been forever engulfed in an endless winter.”

“Oh, well that changes the angle on things.” Gart tapped a knight. 

“Would the angle change again if I told you I was turned into a lizard at one point?”

Gart’s eyes shot up to his grandfather. “A what now?”

Graham’s archer hit Gart’s and the old man smiled gleefully as Gart looked between the board and his grandfather, demanding an explanation over a lesson as he already knew what the painful lesson was.

Don’t fall for tall tales… if it was one.


	4. Chapter Four

“I’m sorry Gart, but you can play your game with him tomorrow.”

“But Grandmother, he’s right now up telling Gwendolyn a story. I promise, it’ll be a quick round. Just one--”

He stopped still in his tracks as Valanice looked at him with a stare best described as ‘don’t step over this line, young man’. Embarrassed, Gart lowered his head and mumbled out an apology, feeling something akin to an ache in his chest. 

“I’ll be sure to let him know that he owes you a match in the morning, Gart. Go get some sleep yourself.” Valanice said, placing a hand on his head.

Gart wished his grandmother a good night before heading back to his room, that ache in his chest growing the more he thought. It wasn’t fair. Why was Gwendolyn allowed to stay and listen to him prattle on but he couldn’t have just one quick game? Slowly, he was figuring what that ache was. That horrible twisting knot. It was an emotion he was embarrassed to even say he had: jealousy.

No, Gart shook his head. This is something not to be jealous over. It’s fine that she got to spend extra hours with him while he was busy with addendum training. It’s fine that they had their own little inside jokes based on those annoying puns while he… he…

Gart frowned. There was no point thinking this over, maybe he did need a good night sleep.

The following morning, the young prince sat at his table in front of his board game, the scowl still on his face. Gart could never really get behind Graham’s stories. No matter how bold or epic they were, his thoughts always drifted away from the tales itself and more to what-if scenarios. What would he have done facing down the dragon protecting the mirror? What tools would he have crafted to climb the beanstalk instead of haphazardly climbing it without any safety means (or better yet, who would he have sent out instead)? 

How on Earth Gwendolyn managed to sit for hours upon hours without the slightest hint of boredom eluded the young prince. 

He knew there were some truths about learning from Grandfather’s stories, how there were lessons and morals to be taught, but listening and applying them just never… clicked. Gart tapped on one of the knights who rotated and watched as the archer fired, the arrows bouncing rhythmically before impaling the unfortunate opponent. Drats, that plan was a dud too. He sighed and moved the pieces back to its starting position, ready to try a new tactic when he heard a slight knock against his door. 

“It’s open.” He permitted. 

The door creaked open and Gwendolyn leaned in. “Gart?”

“Hm?” Gart looked up at his younger cousin. Something about her looked… sad. At least, he thinks so. “What is it?”

“Um… about last night…” She began, her tone low as she slowly stepped further into the room.

Oh. Right. The storm. Him trying to join in on the story. Grandfather’s… outburst. Gart frowned, truth be told trying to push passed whatever feeling that was stirring in him after that night only to have it bubble up again horribly. 

“Listen,” Gwendolyn started, “I’m sorry about what happened. Grandpa didn’t say much but he looked a little bit sad. I tried having him tell me a story but he didn’t seem too into it.”

Gart looked at her with a raised brow. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, if stories aren’t cheering him up…” she eyed the board game, “maybe a battle of wits?”

“Why don’t you go play with him instead?” He asked with slight resentment. 

Gwendolyn stood by, looking slightly hurt. She shook her head. “I’m… not that good at the game. And besides, it’s more your thing with him then mine.” 

The bitterness subsided slightly. His thing?

Gart’s eyes lowered and he nodded, gathering the board game under one arm. “I… see.” He stood up and walked towards the door as Gwendolyn took a step to the side. He looked at her and the feeling of shame washed over him. “I’m… sorry for my remarks.”

“It’s fine.” She quickly forgave, placing a hand on his arm. “Now get going. I heard you’re about to tie with grandpa.”

He took quick steps to his grandfather’s bedroom. Ever since he got to the Castle after hearing about his illness, he hadn’t found much time to play with him. He did, of course, get a few rounds in, but not nearly as much as he would have liked. Between sharing almost day long stories and sleeping due to his medicine, Gart couldn’t find time to play Duel of Wits with him. And after last night, Gart was more than certain that any possibilities to play the game was out the window. 

Stories truly just… wasn’t his thing. 

Gart gently knocked on the door, hearing permission from his bed-ridden grandfather and walked in with slight hesitation. 

“Ah, Gart…” Graham greeted, looking how Gart felt just moments ago: embarrassed. “I ah--”

“No.” Gart shook his head. “It’s alright, no need to apologize. I stepped out of line last night with your story--”

“Actually, it’s not alright. I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did. I know I said it was the medicine, but it doesn’t truly excuse how I behaved.” Graham sighed. “You didn’t deserve that and for that, I apologize.”

“I’m sorry too.” Gart apologized. “I tried listening and… I ended up not listening. Which is counterproductive.” 

“Well, to be quite frank, you were never keen on stories, so naturally you wouldn’t listen.” 

“Huh?”

“What I mean to say, is that stories aren’t your thing, Gart.” Graham explained. “Strategy and analyzing is your thing. You don’t just listen to the stories, you think of all the possible routes and solutions. You’ve always been that way and to force yourself to do something you don’t like, well, it’s natural that it would have ended… negatively.”

“Oh.” Gart rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand. I… just wanted to be in on yours and Gwendolyn’s… thing.”

“You shouldn’t have. As I’ve said, you and stories don’t click. And that’s not a bad thing. Everyone has that thing. For Gwendolyn and I, it’s the stories, while yours and mine is debating…” he pointed at the board game, “and a duel of wits.”

Gart looked up to his grandfather who smiled. 

“How about a match or three? You’re a win away from tying with me.” Graham smiled.

He rubbed his eyes and nodded, walking over to the wooden seat besides Graham and began setting up the board properly. He thought over Graham’s words. Their thing… that has always been the case, hasn’t it?

And this time, he was certain he was going to win.


End file.
